


No Sooner Met

by Malmo722



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/M, First Kiss, Love at First Sight, One Shot, Princes & Princesses, References to Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-13 21:21:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11193678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malmo722/pseuds/Malmo722
Summary: Royal AU. Princess Elizabeth of France is forced to marry the future King of England, Forsythe Jones the Third to stop a war between their between their two countries but their first meeting does not go as planned.





	No Sooner Met

**Author's Note:**

> I was heavily inspired by Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet. I’ve never written anything like this so if might suck. 
> 
> This isn’t even remotely accurate historically and a few of these lines are Shakespeare’s not mine. 
> 
> I also edited myself so there are probably mistakes.

“I do not wish to marry him mother!” Princess Elizabeth of France wailed as her plump lady in waiting, Jonet, laced her into her dress. “I do not love him!”

She was the eldest daughter of Henry Cooper, the ruling King of France. To quiet rising tensions between the French and the English she was set to marry the next King of England, Forsythe Phillip George Edward Jones the Third. Elizabeth knew little of him but what she did know she didn’t like. Promiscuous, entitled, egotistical.

“That is not what this is about, Elizabeth.” Queen Alice of France, scolded as she helped pin up her daughters flowing blonde hair. “Our kingdoms are on the verge of war, children of French and English blood will stop that war.”

“I want to marry Duke Archibald! He is of noble birth, he would make a fine husband!” Tears ran down her face and Jonet blotted them with a handkerchief.

“For a Countess possibly, but not for a Princess and future Queen!” Alice roared, pulling on her daughters hair. “You will meet Prince Forsythe, you will be pleasant, you will be ladylike, you will be of the nobility you were born into. You will entertain him at the masquerade tonight, you will be married and you will provide him with heirs.”

Elizabeth stood looking at herself in the mirror. The light lavender dress fashioned for this night was beautiful and different from any dress she had ever worn. The type of ball they were having required costumes so something a little less formal would not be frowned upon. The material was lighter and allowed her to move more freely than the heavier satin dresses she was used to wearing. White lace outlined the bust, sleeves and hem. She looked beautiful, glowing even, as her mother came up behind her.

“Don’t you want me to be happy?” Elizabeth asked.

Alice sighed. “My beautiful girl, happiness is something that people like us cannot afford. We live in this luxury and our penance is to make sure we keep our people alive. This marriage will do that.” Alice accepted an ornate gold tiara from Jonet and placed it on her daughters head. “Heavy is the head that wears the crown.” She planted a kiss on Elizabeth’s cheek and when her mother had left the room, the Princess began to sob.

* * *

 

Prince Forsthye was bored and annoyed. He had been traveling to Paris for so long he could hardly remember what London looked like. There were no women travelling with him that struck his fancy and all there was to do was listen to his mother drone on about his duty.

“You will marry this girl, Forsthye.” Queen Claudia of England told her eldest son. “While France needs this merger more than we do, we cannot afford to go to battle again so soon after the last war. There will be rioting in the streets.” She huffed re-adjusting her gown.

“Do they have anything in Paris other than fields?” He whined.

“We aren’t in Paris yet.” She leaned forward. “Your father is not well Forsthye, he has a sickness he cannot shake and when he takes his last breath our country will look to you to lead. I don’t care if you ever love her but you will take her as your wife because a king does what needs to be done.”

His father of the same name was traveling in a separate carriage resting for the party that night. King Forsythe the Second was looking paler by the day and the Prince knew his mother was right. Forsythe would be king soon, much quicker than he would have liked.

The party was something he was looking forward to though. He had met French girls before and knew they were without shame, willing to do anything to please him. He would meet his future wife and then go and find a good time.

They arrived in Paris within the hour and pulled up to a large lavish palace. People busied themselves carrying linens, trays of glassware, and fruits and vegetables in preparation for the affair that evening.

King Henry and Queen Alice were out front to welcome the English Royal family into theirs. The Prince’s future bride was no where to be seen.

* * *

 

Elizabeth had her royal robes draped over her dress as she peered into the ballroom which was packed full of royalty and nobility. They all wore outlandish costumes, each trying to outdo the other, every face covered in a mask.

She had told her mother that she wasn’t feeling well and would be late to the party. “Jonet, have you seen him? Duke Archibald, is he here?”

“M’lady, I have seen him, he is wearing a green mask with a diamond above each eye.” Jonet said, fussing over her.

“Did you speak to him? How am I going to get away to see him?” She growled in frustration. “I wish I knew this was my fate sooner. I would have kissed Archibald a little harder the last time we met.“ She looked away wistfully.

Jonet looked around to make sure they were alone. Her round cheeks pulled into a smile as she began pulling off Elizabeth’s robes. “Give me your crown.” She instructed.

“Jonet, what are you doing?” The young Princess asked in shock.

“You are too young to have this thrust upon you even though it will be so. Take tonight and kiss your Duke for the last time.” She smiled warmly. “What is it that writer you love so much says? ‘Go girl, seek happy nights to happy days.’”

Elizabeth took the mask she was being handed and tied it behind her head. She was smiling so widely her cheeks hurt. “Thank you, Jonet.” Elizabeth took off in search of the love she could never fulfill.

Once moving through the ballroom, it was even more full than it looked. There were hundreds of people there to welcome the English and Elizabeth could barely shove through the crowd. She was looking for her redheaded love while trying to avoid her mother.

She moved her head furiously until her eye was caught by a dark haired man staring at her. He was looking at her with a desperate need, as if she was the moon casting light and he a lost soul travelling by night. He was handsome, unlike any man she had seen. His skin was white and smooth like he was cut from marble. He had a carelessness exhibited through his simple, ill-fitting black and white wardrobe which she found fascinating. His lips were reddened with wine and parted, his eyes wide and blue. She noted a smattering of beauty marks on his cheek that looked like constellations, and in that moment, she wanted to trace the night sky.

Until a loud crash of silver and glass distracted her, she had forgotten where she was going and what she was doing. Shaking herself out of her trance and she darted away to find her Duke, pushing the stranger from her mind.

* * *

 

Forsythe downed his second glass of wine as he milled around the room. He was furious he still had not met Princess Elizabeth. She was still in her room, ill with ‘lady woes’. Forsythe knew this was a farce, she did not wish to marry him any more than he wished to marry her.

“Has the Princess appeared?” The Prince’s confidante, Kevin, asked filling their cups with wine.

“No, she has not.” He scoffed. “A restless woman does not a happy wife make.” He commented, taking another drink.

“At least the wine is better here. What piss we have been drinking in England.” Kevin laughed. He was dress exactly like the Prince. Tight black pants, a loose white shirt and an open black jacket. His mask lined was simple and black.

“To hell with this Princess, if she does not have any courtesy for me, then I will show none for her.” Forsythe said forcefully. “Have you spotted any young, pretty things?” He asked.

Kevin looked across the room and made eyes with an angel faced man in a blue mask. “I sure have.” He replied with a smirk.

Then the Prince saw her; a vision in lavender. Her long blonde hair, half up, half down, trailing behind her as she darted across the room. Her head was moving around as if she was looking for or hiding from someone. She wore a lavender lace mask with three white feathers billowing from the top and in her frantic search, her eyes met his.

“Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?” He whispered to himself. He took a step towards her but a loud crashing sound distracted him. When he looked back to she where stood only moments before, she was gone.

“Did you see her?” Forsythe asked, bunching Kevin’s shirt in his hand.

“Who?” Kevin asked looking around the room.

“The goddess in purple, the one with the golden hair spun from the heavens itself. The girl with the skin like milk and lips like cherries. Did you not see her?” He spun to his friend and with desperate eyes. “Was she not real?”

“I do not know, your Highness.”

“I must find her.” He finished his drink and handed Kevin his cup. “If my parents ask, say you have not seen me.”

Kevin nodded and Forsythe took off in the direction of the last place he had seen, what had to be, the most beautiful girl in the world.

* * *

 

Elizabeth was beginning to panic. She could not find him, the man she had been dreaming off every night when she went to sleep. She had to say goodbye to her beloved Duke Archibald.

She ducked into an alcove to catch her breath. “Where could he be?” She said aloud before she heard the sounds of moaning coming from around the corner. She peaked around the wall and gasped. There he was, Duke Archibald, with his signature red hair and moustache, a green mask on his face, a diamond above each eye. He was sweating and his eyes were closed, a dark haired harlot on her knees in front of him, doing things that only a wife should do.

Elizabeth ripped her mask from her face and covered her mouth to stifle a sob. “Oh, what dare men do!” She stated, heading back to the party with the intention of getting a drink to wash the fowl taste from her mouth. To make her forget she ever thought she could have a future with the Duke. She believed Archibald would ask her to run away with him and start a quiet life in the country. This would never be the case.

She was going to meet her Prince; any distraction was better than the pain within her chest. If Archibald could pretend to love her, she could pretend to love her future husband.

Her dress flowed around her, the feathers from her mask tickled her arm as she headed towards her the ball.

“Stop!” An English voice shouted at her.

She shook her head and wiped under her eyes, putting her mask back on. “Yes, what?” She answered, turning to look at who was summoning her. She knew she wouldn’t recognize him, his accent was English, he was with the party of people that came with her future husband.

She shouldn’t have recognized him but she did. He was the handsome stranger she has locked eyes with him earlier. Now that she was closer to him the effect he had on her before hit her tenfold and she felt short of breath.

“Hello.” He said, approaching her cautiously.

Elizabeth curtsied and bowed her head. “Bonjour.” She responded.

"A French girl.” He mused. “Do you have a title, m’lady?” He asked.

In a split second she decided to lie, to be someone else for the rest of the night, her last night. 

“No, I’m one of Princess’ ladies in waiting.”

“You’re clothes say other wise.” He grinned taking a step towards her.

“The Queen wanted us all to look our best, for the English, for you.” She motioned towards the man and lowered her head.

“Certainly not for me, I am only an attendant of the Prince.” He took another step towards her.

She knew he was lying. No attendant would be able to stray as far as he had. He was probably a friend of the English family and just was trying to charm her, she would be a liar if she said it wasn’t working. The Princess went along with his lie. “What is the Prince like?” She asked gliding towards him, hoping she could get any information out of him.

He smirked, a lock of his raven hair falling in his eyes. “Well, he’s handsome and when he becomes king he’ll have a palace. Bigger than this one.” His comment was dripping with arrogance.

“He sounds incredibly pompous.” She crossed her arms over her chest, pushing up her bosom.

The stranger lulled his head from side to side. “He can be.”

“Is he kind? Is he caring? What do you have to say of his character?” She demanded, taking another step towards him.

The man’s facial features softened. “I think he wants to be but he can’t always be. His position doesn’t always allow for it. He wants to a good man but sometimes he looses sight of what’s important.”

“Do you think he’ll make a good King?” She asked, looking up at him. She hadn’t realized how close she was to him. He was taller than she originally thought.

“I do not know.” He whispered, running his fingers up and down her bare arms. "I saw you earlier, what were you running from?” He asked.

“I had to retrieve something for the Princess.” She lied.

“Did you manage to find it?”

She shook her head. “No, she lost something that won’t ever be found again.” After talking to the stranger she was having a hard time remembering why that made her so sad.

"Don’t underestimate something new.” He whimsied, placing one hand on her waist and taking her hand in the other. They began to dance to the faint music in the empty corridor.

“The musicians are quite good here.” The man commented.

“Only the best for this night.” Elizabeth swayed with him shocked at how comfortable she was in his arms, all her worries seemed to be fading away, a swelling in her chest. ‘Is this what Juliet felt like when she saw her Romeo?’ she thought.

He brought his hands to her neck, his fingertips ghosting over her delicate skin. “I did not believe in heaven until this night, for now an angel stands before me.” He breathed.

She sighed, allowing herself to give in, to let something new heal old wounds. Her head fell back and her eyes closing. “Love should not be this sudden. Love like this only comes to the lucky few, to characters in books.”

When he brushed his lips against hers she did not push him away. She put her hands on his waist and pulled him closer. He tasted like wine and smelled like the soap they made at the palace. His lips were soft and the stubble on his face rubbed against her sensitive skin. She moaned into his mouth.

“Princess Elizabeth!” Jonet called startling the two of them. They broke apart and the man stared at her with wide eyes full of shock.

At the exact same time a man around the same age as the stranger in front of her appeared. “Prince Forsythe!” He shouted jovially. “I have been asked to come and find you, dinner is about to be served!”He grabbed his arm and started pulling him towards the party.

Jonet took Elizabeth’s hand and tugged her in the same direction. “Your mother is on the war path. Prepare yourself young lady.”

The future King and Queen of England did their best to maintain eye contact with each other as they were dragged back to their realities.

“Prince?” Elizabeth exhaled in disbelief.

“Princess?” Forsythe said, realizing his greatest love and greatest burden were one in the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated.


End file.
